The Longest Line
by Jillbot69
Summary: I wanted to get close to her. I wanted her to see what I was really like, deep down inside. What scared me was, she already could. Hikaru/O.C. Fanfiction. For Jenni.
1. Chapter 1

_**One: Introduction.**_

"So, which one of us is Hikaru?" we exclaim in unison, sharing a cognizant glance.

For we know, without a doubt, who we are. Hikaru, and Kaoru. Kaoru, and Hikaru. Two fragile plants, grown from a single seed. Lives intertwined by genes, shrouded from the outside world by our own defiance. All our life, we had been living a contridiction. We dressed the same, ate the same, spoke the same. We strived for unity, to be seen as one. Yet we searched for that one person who could tell us apart. We didn't need anyone else, but each other and them. Even if it was lonely to be left waiting.

The brother next to me is Kaoru. I am Hikaru. Who can tell?

The ladies in front of us are stumped. They bite their lips, wrinkle their noses, furrow their brows. Not one of them know, not without the visibility of the part in our hair. They're not special. We entertain them, only because we have to. But not one of them here is worth our time.

"Give up?" I ask, smirking. They blush and giggle, mistaking the mocking leer for a michevious grin. Kaoru and I are about to remove our caps when the voice cuts through the light, cheery atmosphere.

And changes everything.

"Not yet, Hikaru." The voice is soft, lilting, like a child's. There's an underlying edge, sarcastic and mocking. I shiver.

Kaoru and I freeze, shocked. The girls before us freeze, shocked. The entire room freezes, shocked. No longer the sound of clinking china can be heard, flustered laughter, or the boss' croons. Usa-chan slips to the floor and Honey-senpai's fork clatters cake on the plate. Kyoya-senpai ceases writing, eyes flashing warily beneath is glasses. Even time seems to reach a grinding halt, the grainy dust motes no longer swirling in the slanted lazy sun rays, the shadows of drifting afternoon clouds standing respectfully.

Because the person who spoke is one hundred percent, totally and completely, no one we've ever met before. It is someone who can see through us as clearly as a stagnant puzzle, and someone who has never spoken two words to us.

The bubble Music Room Three was encased in bursts. I whirl, but too late. All that is caught is a glimpse of the swishing end of golden hair, the fluttering end of her bright skirt. The door closes with finalty, and all that is left is the sent of something sweet, and spicy. A piece of paper flutters to the ground. I stride to pick it up. Kaoru brushes my heels. We stare at the lipstick stain in the hushed silence of the room, minds numb.

Who...?


	2. Chapter 2

**_Two: Lunchtime Escapades_**

"Kaoru! Don't leave me!"

The back of his head is already weaving through the throng of chattering teenagers, one arm looped casually over a resistant Haruhi. I sigh wearly. There is still another four people ahead of me in the lunch line. Kaoru has abandoned me the moment he notices Haruhi dancing after the Boss - a lunch tray balanced precariously in her arms and a packed lunch clutched desperately in his. I'm too hungry to skip lunch, and afraid of losing my place if I have to go fetch him. So, sullenly I scuff the ground, knowing full well Kaoru won't be coming back.

I wait for another inching two minutes. In clipped, harsh tones, I order my meal, bregrudgingly buying a second desert for Kaoru. I know he is hungry as well. Despite my annoyance, I won't let my little brother sit hungry. No matter how mercilessly I'll chew him out.

I'm so immersed in my annoyance at my brother - and at the bitter sting the direction of his attention was focused last period - that I don't notice her until it's too late. We collide, food trays flying, the food itself spilling onto our clothes and the floor like grotesque confetti. Slipping and sliding in the mess I topple and fall like a domino. To my dismay, she does as well, sprawling across my lap.

For a moment, I can't speak. I know it's her, the girl from the other day. And that thought stirs something in my chest, something confusing and frightening that I shove away.

She glares at me, long blonde hair falling in her face. Icy blue eyes glare out, fringed by dark, feathery lashes. Her face is small and petite, but angular - no trace of any baby fat left. Pout lips are quivering with anger, dark enough to match the brilliant flush brushing across each cheek bone. I take all this in in a moment, feeling as though we're trapped in our own bubble. The din of the dining room is muffled and unable to reach us. Anything that moves past us is undefined. It's almost like we're underwater, watching the suns rays float towards us.

"Watch where you're walking, you dunce!" she suddenly snaps, breaking the spell. The bustle of the room recoils on us, and I wince at the sensory overload. It takes about a split second for rage to creep up on me at her insolence.

"Watch where I'm walking?! You were taking up the entire path!" I retort angrily.

She recoils, nostrils flaring. Standing hurridly, she places her hands on her hips. I rush to meet her, glaring down at her tiny frame. Her eyes flash and glint, her hair angrily swept behind her shoulder. "That's ridiculous!" she shouts. "You ran into me, or are you too daft to remember?"

I glare, biting back the bitter remark that gnaws on my tongue. This is too preposterous to comprehend. Deep, deep down, I know she's right, but I'll be damned if I admit it. With an aggravated huff, I turn to stalk away, brushing a piece of food off of my uniform sleeve.

"What?" she demands, in disbelief. "Not even an apology?"

I turn back to her, jaw set. Who does she think she is?

"What's your name, anyway?" I ask.

Her eyebrows raise. "Claire. Claire Fairmount. Goodbye then, Hikaru."

And with that, she stalks off.

I'm left staring after her, again with that frightening feeling in my chest.

**_Later:_**

It's a cool, dignified afternoon. Outside, gold, red, and orange paper ghosts along the chilled breeze, whispering farewell to the skeletal trees. They scatter and linger on the paths and grass, emanating a sweet, pungent odor. They give promise of another autumn, of warm sweaters and quick nights.

Inside, we merry and entertain in the dappled afternoon sun's rays. Tea tables and couches are set up around the room, like little lilypads on a pink pond. Dust motes glinting in the sun dance around the ladies' skirts. A heavy aroma lightens the air, of tea and perfume and cake.

It's quiet in here. Calm. In the relaxed atmosphere, there is only a muted din of murmured conversation, laughter, and flustered giggles. Kaoru and I sit patiently. We are free today (which is unusual), and observe our surroundings peacefully. People watching is something we've always done. When we were children; it had fascinated us, seeing how people interacted. We used to wonder what their lives were like, make up stories for them. Now, we just watch. I don't think we could take the dissapointment anymore, realizing how mundane people really are - as opposed to the eccentric and wild lifestyles we'd concocted for them.

It's about a quarter past four when the door opens, and she walks in. Claire. I can't help a small, triumphant smirk as I watch her walk towards us - and feel it slide off my face as she brushes past us. She sits at Mori-senpai's couch, and begins to converse with him, smiling and giggling at his one-word replys. I can feel my mouth is agape, and my expression is tinged with anger and annoyance. But I honestly don't care. What the hell? I had expected her to come over here, maybe to apologize or critisize me for my rude behaviour, or at least glance at me. This wasn't going to happen.

I stand up, ignoring the glance Karou is shooting me, the perplexed liquid his eyes have gone. I can feel myself quivering with each step, and a seething knot throbbing in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't anything abnormal. My reaction was completely necessary; Claire was being very impolite to ignore me after bumping into me today, and not formally introducing herself. She ran around knowing my name (not to mention the startling fact she could tell my brother and I apart), while previous to lunch I had no idea who she was. And what was she doing with Mori-senpai? The guy didn't talk.

I reach them. Staring down at them, a hot pang goes through me as I realize she's ignoring me. I'm standing right in front of them, close enough so my legs are brushing her bright yellow skirt, and still she sits, talking animatedly to Mori. She's a pretty good actress, the way her hands move and her body is turned directly to him, but I can tell from the two bright patches on either cheek that she knows I'm there. I clear my throat. Still no responce.

"Hello, Claire," I say, perfectly civilized. After a moment, she turns, a fake smile placed on her face.

"Hikaru," she says, nodding. "Is there something you wanted?"

For a moment, I'm drawn a-blank. What did I come over here for? I couldn't very well tell her to get away from Mori-senpai. I'm not going to apologize, either. And, I dont' have anything else to say to her. In all honestly, I know nothing about the girl. I have nothing to talk to her about. But, something inside me can't let her go back to conversing with Senpai, either. It's not jealousy. It's just rude, on her part.

Thinking fast, I hear myself blurt out, "Would you care for some cake, Miss Claire-chan?"

And immediately regret it. The moment the words escape my mouth, a mischevious light illuminates her eyes. A smile crosses her lips, but this one is no longer sweet, or fake. It's frosty. Involuntarily, I shiver.

"No thank you, Hikaru. And I'd prefer it if you would not refer to me as 'Claire-chan,' at least until I've given you my permission to do so." She turns away, clearly dismissing me. I feel my face flush.

"Of course," I say, smiling pleasantly. As I turn around, something stirkes me. "You be careful now, Senpai. She just might knock you over and spill food all over you." A low blow, I know, and her gasp reinforces that. But I can't help feeling a little satisfaction.

I ignore the emotions she triggers. I ignore the way I respond to her, even though I've just met her. I ignore the fact that I want to let her in, because it scares me.

I walk out of Music Room 3 without a word.

_**A/N: So this is crap. Yeah, this is really terrible. But it is a Fanfiction for my friend, who Claire is based off of. Sorry if you hate, yo, but I was born this way. :P **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Three: Manners, Etiquette, and Formalities**_

A note flutters onto my desk, it's pale butterfly wings quivering as it lands across my notes. Curious, I glance around, only to find Kaoru staring intently at his notepad. Sighing mentally - no doubt it's patronizing of some sort - I open it with a flourish. I smooth it out on my pad.

_What you said to that girl yesterday was mean, Hikaru. Why did you say that? She is important, and you know it. She's not like the rest. She __**knows**__ us. You should apologise. I think you could be good friends._

_Kaoru ;)_

Emotions burn at the edges of my essence, leaving me feeling ferverish - apart from this world. It's a mixture of embarassment, annoyance at my brother's intereference, and reluctant excitement at the mention of Claire that burns churning knots into the pit of my stomach. I can feel my cheeks stained a glowing red, my eyes start to throb and teeth tingle. I glance up at my brother, finding his gaze intently on me. He quirks a brow.

_What do you know?_ I mouth. _You don't know anything about her._

I glance away before I can see his reply, spend the remaining time of class glaring at the neat scrawl lined neatly along the paper. Why should I apologise? I've done nothing wrong; and it isn't like she is innocent. And frankly, I don't give a damn what she thinks. But, I do give a damn what Kaoru thinks . . . and he would be mad if I didn't at least try to make amends. It hurts, thinking about swallowing my pride like that. I should be the strong one, the stoic one. I should be the one looking down at _her_, while _she_ apologises humbly. I suppose I'd have to, all the same. Just for Kaoru.

The bell rings; signalling the close of last period. I stand up, pushing my emotions aside as I lope towards the door. I don't bother waiting for Kaoru.

I wasn't that I wanted to apologise. Not at all.

_**Claire**_

He slips through the front doors, and I get a few detached moments to stare. He pauses on the front steps of the grand pink building, one set of toes poised into the open air in front of the first stair. He looks troubled - face clouded with reluctance, and consideration. Distantly, I wonder what he's thinking. For the most part I'm too caught up in the way the hues of the withering leaves stand out in stark contrast to his uniform, how the clock tower is in perfect view in front of his nose, the way the slanting Autumn sunlight liquifies his golden eyes, accents the auburn in his hair. At the way this all comes together, forming something from an ad campaign. I wonder what it's like, to be so attractive you don't have to try.

I don't know why I'm interested in Hikaru Hitachiin. Or why I bothered to recognize him from his brother. When I moved here from America, I promised myself I wouldn't care about anything. I would'nt get involved, instead remaining a detached, lifeless shell ghosting through life. At least until my mother realised how foolish she was for moving us all here. But - there's something different about him. When I look at him, I see a kindred spirit. I see him for what he is; another living contradiction, too scared to let people in, but desperate for someone to try.

His brother isn't the same as us. He may demonstrate the motions, but he isn't so crippled as us. I think it's more of a game to him, a child-like curiousty to see how far a person would go to break another's barriers.

I don't really have an interest in Kaoru.

The wind picks up stirring my hair around my face playfully. A few dry leaves coasting the air brush my cheek, whispering like old river spirits. I watch as they dance away, on to bigger and brighter things; maybe a hidden pool deep in the forest, where they can watch the sun kiss the edge of the earth good night before they expire. I've always loved dying leaves. They were like a symbol of Autum's generosity, dressed in colorful attire and given a moment of daring performance, making them matter before the decomposing cancer takes hold.

I'm pondering this, lost in thoughts of leaves and death and desire, when I look up. Peering through the yellow screen obscuring my face, I notice with a jolt that Hikaru is striding towards him, that strange jumble of emotions splayed across his face. As I fix my hair, I wonder at how people can have so much trouble telling those boys apart. Their faces are like open books; their vulnerability out for the world to see.

He stops in front of me, looking down at where I sit (in front of an ancient tree, surrounded by leaves), and swallows. If I couldn't see past the haughtly look on his face, I wouldn't recognize it as a nervous one. In retalliation, I work to mold my features into the confident, cool, composed mask I'd masqueraded in that day in the club (it couldn't possibly have been yesterday). I hadn't been able to understand the weak, shaky feeling the way he'd addressed me had left me, and I hadn't spent much time analyzing it. I didn't plan to either.

"Claire," he says quietly, almost hesitantly. There's a trace of venom in his voice, and resentment, too.

"Hikaru," I nod. Why do I care if he hates me?

"I came to apologise for my behaviour yesterday. It was r-rude, and cruel, and not the way a host should act." He sighs. "I came to offer a . . . date, a day of my time to make it up to you. Will you accept?"

I'm taken into complete and utter shock. A date? What the hell? This couldn't be the same boy, the one who put up the act of a jackass to keep people away. And why did he sound so forlorn and formal? Was I really that terrible?

For a moment I couldn't move. I'd never really taken the term _frozen in shock_ in the literal sense, but now the description couldn't be more fitting. It's as though my muscles are locking up to transform, falling apart in a quivering mass before hardening into one long line of lead. Only my mind is really left unaffected, racing in panic and excitement. Wait - excitement? No way. I didn't care about anyone here. I couldn't.

And yet . . . staring into his face, I couldn't say no. He was too damn alluring, as much as I hated to admit it. He was so interesting, someone I knew I could sympathize with. I decided to go.

"Um, alright, Hirkaru. Yes - that would be appropriate. I'll accept."

To my surprise, and grin flashes across his face, and vanishes as quickly as it comes. The haughtly look is back, but his eyes are twinkling when he speaks.

"I'll see you Saturday, Yagurumasō." With that, he walks away, books clutched casually at his side.

I may be American, but I know enough Japanese to understand what he calls me.

Cornflower? Why am I a cornflower all of a sudden?

_**Hikaru**_

I'm furious.

If it was possible to kick your own ass, I'm sure I'd be the first one to line up and take a swing at me. How could I grin? Now she'll get the wrong idea; think I care or something. And I don't. At all. If anything, that grin was because I'll please Kaoru.

Not because I'm excited. No way.

_**A/N: Hasty, and sloppy, but it doesn't matter. I don't care, it's up, and I can sleep. Thanks to skyfire.k-rainwhisper.s for my first review, by the way. Much obliged.**_


End file.
